Moments
by yourholiness
Summary: A series of unconnected events in the lives of Mello and Matt. There is no plot, there is no story, there are only moments. Each piece will be longer than a drabble, but shorter than a story.
1. Silent Lullaby

**Silent Lullaby**

Mello slowly became aware of a strange sensation. Something was brushing against his face, just outside of the still-raw scar that covered his left cheek. It took him a moment to realize that it was fingers that were touching him. He had to stop himself from jumping to his own defense. When he remembered that he wasn't with the mafia anymore, he became even more confused.

But there was something oddly comforting, satisfying, about the gentle touches. He found himself quickly falling back to sleep. Forcing his eyes open, he felt them quiver a little, but he was too comfortable to care.

The first thing that came into focus – however blurred – was a mess of deep red. Then came orange-tinted green eyes, pale skin, and faint freckles.

Mello gave a small sigh. He was with Matt.

It suddenly dawned on him, the position he must have been in. In order for him to be looking up at Matt the way he was, his head must have been resting in his lap. Sleepy amusement tugged at the corner of his lips as he absently wondered how on earth he had come to fall asleep in such an arrangement. But he didn't get a chance to ask, because Matt's fingers just kept stroking, and soon Mello was lost in their silent lullaby.


	2. Blanket

**Blanket**

Matt stared at the refrigerator, as he'd been doing for an hour or so. He couldn't remember leaving the bed and he wasn't sure why it was the fridge that had won the honor of his blank gaze, but there he stood. He pondered vaguely over what had pulled him away from the warmth. He wasn't going to die tomorrow, he didn't feel that his life had been a waste. No, it was the fact that he knew he could that had driven him into the kitchen at four o'clock in the morning. He could die at any time – he _knew_ he could. The truly scary thing, the real reason that he was standing in the kitchen in his boxers rather than snuggled warm in his bed, was that he didn't really mind. His only regret was that he hadn't been here sooner.

Matt didn't jump at the sound of shuffling feet behind him, though he couldn't say he'd been expecting it. Mello opened his arms, the blanket that was draped over his shoulder spreading like a cape, and wrapped Matt in a warm hug from behind. Nuzzling into Matt's shoulder, he breathed in slowly. "It's the middle of winter," he said quietly, his voice rough from sleep. Matt nodded dazedly, the warmth from Mello and his blanket beginning to remind him of how tired he was.

Mello brushed his cheek against Matt's hair and herded him back to the bed.


	3. Of Evil Toasters and German Chocolate

**Of Evil Toasters and German Chocolate**

"What are you doing?"

Matt didn't turn around to answer Mello's question. "Making toast."

"Why are you staring at the toaster?"

"Because it's evil," he replied, still not turning to face Mello. They'd been living together for about a week now and Matt still wasn't used to seeing him. He knew it was stupid, but sometimes he was afraid that this was all just an elaborate fantasy that his subconscious mind had created, and he didn't want to shatter the illusion by finding holes in the dream. So he didn't want to look at Mello too much.

"My toaster is evil?" Mello didn't bother to hide the sarcasm, as he moved to Matt. He wasn't used to seeing his old friend either, and he certainly wasn't used to Matt's new habit of walking around shirtless. He barely heard Matt explain (apparently the morning before, the toaster hadn't just popped out his toast like a _normal_ toaster, it had flung it across the room) because he had just noticed something that he hadn't before. The freckles adorning Matt's shoulders and upper back were the color of milk chocolate – the really rich, luscious kind, probably from Germany. Mello moved closer and began to kiss them appreciatively. No chocolate, in any form, must be wasted.


	4. Doppelbanger

**Doppelbanger**

Mello smirked as Matt came into the bedroom and stopped to stare at Mello's naked form draped with the sheet. "How long have you been awake?" Matt asked, dropping a bag of newly-purchased video games and chocolate bars.

"Long enough to brush my teeth," Mello replied and shrugged, gesturing for Matt to join him on the bed. Matt walked over and put one knee on the bed, leaning down to place his hand behind Mello's head and kiss him warmly. Mello pulled him down onto the bed, rolling them over so that he was lying comfortably on his body. Matt laughed but didn't push him away. And then there was another pair of gloved hands on his shoulders, pulling – not pushing – him off of Matt. Confused, he turned around.

What he saw made his eyes widen dramatically. It was Matt, but it wasn't _his_ Matt. This Matt had dark hair, and his goggles were green, and his striped shirt was red instead of white. But before he could do much more than wonder if he'd had more to drink the night before than he'd thought he had, New Matt was kissing him. He certainly _kissed_ like Matt – it was almost exactly the same as kissing Matt, in fact, except that this New Matt had a bit of bite to him, as if he wasn't quite as accepting and forgiving as Matt was.

Without breaking away from the kiss, Mello looked to the side to see if Matt was still there. He was, and he didn't seem to find it strange that another, darker version of himself was currently monopolizing Mello's attention. In fact, after a moment, he began kissing Mello's neck like nothing out of the ordinary was happening at all. New Matt broke away from the kiss and starting nipping at the other side of Mello's neck. After a mere few moments of the two Matts' ministrations, he thought his head might explode.

Mello's eyes snapped open and he breathed heavily. Beside him, Matt – his Matt, his beautiful, red-haired, carefree Matt – was watching him with that adorable half-grin he wore when he caught Mello doing something embarrassing. Mello understood immediately – he _was_ number two, after all. "I had the strangest dream," he said.

Matt nodded. "I can see that," he laughed, glancing down at the tent in the sheets.

Mello felt the blush rising to his cheeks, but he didn't acknowledge it. "You were there," he said, and Matt's grin grew. "But then…there was another you. I mean, he looked just like you, except he was a little different…" he trailed off, realizing that he must have sounded like a lunatic.

Matt just looked at him with his ever-present contentedness, smiled, and said, "Hey, Mels…no more chocolate before bed, all right?"


	5. Sappy Goodbyes

**Sappy Goodbyes**

Everyone seems to think that when Mello left me at Wammy's there was this whole big scene. I don't know how people get such an idea in their heads. After he left, younger kids, and even some older kids, would come up to me and ask about it sometimes. And they'd be surprised when I told them what happened. Or they wouldn't even let me get to the story (if you can call it a story) before they started babbling about how they'd imagined it. Sometimes it seemed like it was a bigger deal to them than it was to me.

The guys would ask if he was mad at me, if we'd gotten into a fight and that was the real reason that he'd left and hadn't taken me with him. They'd wonder if he'd threatened me to make me stay behind and that was why I wasn't trying to find him. The girls usually asked if he was crying when he said goodbye, if we'd hugged – sometimes they'd even ask if he'd kissed me first. They wanted to know if I was going to go after him, and when I told them no, they'd think it was because I wanted to respect his wishes. Like he was dead or something.

Let me tell you, it didn't help me deal with it. I just let them believe what they wanted to, and kept the real story to myself. The truth, well, the truth is that it was a lot less dramatic than all of that. The truth is that he didn't even tell me he was going. He just wasn't there anymore. He didn't give me the chance to fight him, there was no hug, there was definitely no kiss. He didn't cry – I mean, come on, this is Mello we're talking about. He didn't threaten me, and I wasn't respecting his wishes or any of that bullshit. The truth is, I knew that if he'd wanted me to follow him, he would have told me he was going. I would've tried anyway, but if Mello didn't want to be found, he wasn't going to be found. He was always a master at hide 'n' seek.

The truth is, Mello's just not one for sappy goodbyes. But I got over it. He's way more into sappy good-mornings.


	6. Chocolate Tea?

**Chocolate…Tea?**

Matt had to admit, he was a little nervous. He could handle Mello's mood swings and even the occasional punch to the chest, be he was just too tired today to handle Mello being legitimately angry at him. And really, that was the best that he could hope for. No one – not even Matt – could obstruct Mello from his chocolate and get away with it.

"Matt?" Mello called when Matt stepped tentatively into the apartment with the shopping bag hanging limply from his hand. "You look like shit – like you're about to die or something. What's up?"

"Mello…" Matt took a deep breath and then said, slowly so that he wouldn't have to repeat himself, "I went to five different stores. I couldn't find chocolate anywhere. I mean, I found Hershey's Milk bars, but the last time I brought back when one of those things you almost flung yourself off the roof. So I looked for hot chocolate mix or something – anything – but all I could find was this…" he said, reaching into the shopping bag and pulling out a small brown cardboard box. "So…here," he finished lamely, handing the box to a very pale-looking Mello. He took it, but clearly he was not adapting well to the prospect of even just one night without chocolate.

Mello eyed the box for a moment, looking skeptical to say the least. But at least he wasn't yelling, or crying, or trying to jump off the roof again. Finally, he said, "Chocolate…tea?" Matt nodded and winced as Mello took a determined step forward. He didn't go after Matt though; instead he walked into the kitchen. After a minute, Matt heard the microwave going.

For several minutes he waited, and then Mello shuffled somewhat shyly back into the living area, sipping contentedly enough at the tea cradled in his hands. Matt sighed and relaxed, and for the rest of the evening, they sat curled together on the couch. They drank until they'd used the entire box of tea bags.


End file.
